In the aftermath of national tragedies, God forbid the faithful should talk about guns

Sally Finneran | MLive.comPeople place candles around a fountain during a vigil Tuesday, August 7, 2012 at the Gurdwara in Ada. The Sikh Society of West Michigan hosted the vigil after a deadly shooting at a temple in Wisconsin.

Which conversation would you rather have? The one about the best in us, or the one about the worst in us?

I would always rather talk about the best in us. In this case, that would be some of the best athletes on the planet, executing thrilling physical feats at the London Olympics.

Teenage girls flipping backward on a balance beam. Young men and women digging ferociously through water with incredible endurance. Sprinters spanning 100 and 200 meters with astonishing speed. A lass from Ireland boxing her way to the top of the world. Young women from America kicking a soccer ball to glory.

This is a conversation we will savor for a while, recalling some of the best accomplishments of which humanity is capable.

As for the worst in us, that’s not such a pretty conversation. In this case, it’s not even a conversation we really can have.

To try to talk about why an enraged man would walk into a house of Sikh worshippers and just start shooting quickly devolves into tears – or shouting.

The same with that other recent instance of worst, where the spooky guy with the red-tinted hair walks into a movie theater and just starts shooting.

These incidents are conversation killers. Much of the time we can’t even speak the same language.

Oh, we can talk about why men can do such things, how they become so unhinged and unmoored from common humanity and why white males accumulate such resentful, random rage. That’s a conversation worth having, though it usually doesn’t go anywhere useful. It often ends with, “That’s just the way some people are. Those things are going to happen.”

We also can talk about the fear and misunderstanding of minority faiths; how Sikhs often are confused with Muslims; and how both faiths are vulnerable to attack these days, whether in the Sikh massacre in Oak Creek, Wis., or a mosque-burning under investigation in Joplin, Mo.

But there is one element of these shocking slaughters we cannot talk about, and that is the means. Because to talk about the means is to talk about guns, and in America that conversation goes nowhere good.

God forbid we should talk about ways we could make it more difficult for mentally unstable men to buy weapons of mass destruction and load up on ammo; why any non-military citizen needs an assault rifle; how we can protect the rights of lawful gun owners and also protect the 6-year-old girl who just wanted to see a movie, or the 84-year-old man who just wanted to pray.

Some readers have already stopped listening. They see me wanting to toss the Second Amendment into the trash, and to take guns away from hunters and from the sport shooters who wowed us with their skills at the Olympics.

No, I just want us to talk about ways to reduce these mass slaughters and 30,000 gun deaths each year, in the civil way we talk about reducing fatal car accidents and breast cancer. Even the third-rail issue of abortion can generate more productive dialogue than gun control.

But this is not a conversation just about gun laws; it’s about the values of our culture, the convictions of faith and the deepest stirrings of the heart.

I don’t expect President Obama or Mitt Romney to talk about it, because they’re trying to get elected. I don’t expect the NRA to talk about it, because it never does.

But faith communities absolutely should be talking about reducing gun violence. Some are.

Pro- or anti-gun control, voices of faith should be as prominent in addressing the social issues as they are in calls to prayer. As the Rev. James Martin wrote in America magazine, “Simply praying, ‘God, never let this happen again’ is insufficient for the person who believes that God gave us the intelligence to bring about lasting change.”

Still, the conversation needs to go beyond this or that law. It should speak to the basic response of faith to the realities of fear and violence. Is our answer to pack heat in churches and every other public venue, as some legislators propose? To make a golden calf of the gray gun, and trust in the quickest draw to protect us from evil?

This approach has its appeal in a country where almost no place feels safe anymore. But great people of faith, from Gandhi to Martin Luther King Jr., chose another way: answering violence with the firm resistance of a turned cheek, and treating others as they would want to be treated.

Unless they’re willing to accept periodic horror or revert to the Wild West, faith communities and concerned citizens need to lead the way on this. Politicians obviously won’t.

On July 22, London’s church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields hosted an interfaith service to promote friendship and understanding through the Olympics. It centered on the Golden Rule – do unto others as you would have them do unto you – variations of which are common to many faiths.

After Hindu, Buddhist, Jewish and Muslim speakers, a Sikh offered that faith’s version:

“Do not create enmity with anyone as God is within everyone. Awake in peace. Stay in peace. There is no fear with such understanding.”